Free Burn: A Novel by Linda Howard

laughing and dancing was just what she needed; she’d feel better after a beer. Michelle would already be a drink or two into the evening, and a dance or two—or three—ahead of Jenner, but that was okay, because Jenner didn’t think she’d be able to keep up with her tonight.
    The bar was packed and incredibly noisy—it was a Friday night,after all—so she had to look around the milling bodies for a while before she spotted Michelle, sitting at a table with three other regulars. From the number of glasses and bottles on the table, Michelle and the others had more than a two-drink jump on the evening.
    Jenner was almost at the table before Michelle spotted her. “Woohoo!” she yelled. “Love the hair!”
    Jenner resisted the urge to touch her hair, which was now black, with spiky little strands on top. She had gotten it done just that morning. The new style was elegant and sexy and edgy, but most of all, it made her look so different that few people recognized her. After the last couple of months, she figured that was a good thing.
    She pulled up a chair and sat, looking around for a waitress. “I’m wearing the shoes,” Michelle announced, turning so she could lift her foot high enough for Jenner to see. The shoes had been outrageously expensive, over five hundred bucks, but seeing the undiluted delight on Michelle’s face as she’d tried them on had made Jenner think they were well worth it. But then Michelle had been oddly terrified to wear them, afraid they’d get scuffed or she’d break a heel, or something. She had often tried them on at home, then put them safely away. This was the shoes’ first outing, and Jenner clapped her hands.
    “About time,” she said.
    “Are they hot, or what?” Michelle asked, turning her foot this way and that as she admired the rhinestones on the delicate straps. She lifted her foot even higher, so the two men and woman who also sat at the table could see. Across from the table, a man whistled as Michelle’s lifted foot maybe gave him more to admire than just a shoe. She laughed, stuck her tongue out at him, but put her foot back on the floor.
    “Next time,” she said to the other three, “I’m going to get the matching purse. It was
amazing
. The leather felt like butter, it was so soft.”
    Before Jenner could say anything, the cocktail waitress arrivedwith a loaded tray. As she began passing out the new round, she glanced at Jenner. “What’ll you have?”
    “A beer,” Jenner said. As tired as she was, she was wary of drinking very much; she’d limit herself to the one beer and go home in an hour or so.
    “Your tab’s up to ninety-four fifty,” the waitress said to Michelle, her tone saying that she wanted to see some cash or a credit card before anything else was ordered.
    “Put it on her tab,” Michelle said carelessly, picking up her colorful drink and tipping the glass in Jenner’s direction. “She’ll take care of it. That’s what she’s food gor. I mean,
good for.”
She laughed at her silly mistake, waving her hand so that the contents slopped over the edge of the glass; she stopped to swipe her finger over the rim before sticking it in her mouth. “Oops,” she said.
    Oops
? Was Michelle talking about the spilled drink, or what she’d just said?
    Jenner blinked, sitting back in her chair. She almost didn’t believe what she’d heard—almost, but not quite. Maybe a tiny part of her had been waiting for it, but then again, maybe not, because this
hurt
. Michelle, too?
    She probably should have seen it coming. Not that she minded always picking up the check now, it was just that she was always
expected
to do it even when, as now, she hadn’t even had a drink yet. And the other three people … she knew them only because she’d often seen them here, but very casually; she didn’t even know their last names. Why should she buy their drinks, too?
    The prospect of fun had faded like a cheap T-shirt, fast and ugly.
    “Actually, cancel that